


How Do You Father?

by OvereducatedAndOverworked



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, George Washington being Hamilton's Father Figure, George Washington is a Dad, Minor Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14263770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OvereducatedAndOverworked/pseuds/OvereducatedAndOverworked
Summary: On the eve of the Battle of Yorktown, Hamilton shares his fears of becoming a father with the only person he can: George Washington.Naturally, he goes about this in the least graceful way possible.





	How Do You Father?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanna_Black_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanna_Black_Slytherin/gifts).



> This is dedicated to Sanna_Black_Slytherin, who commented on one of my Hamilton fics over a year ago (yes, this comes out of nowhere, I know), asking for some exploration of Hamilton and Washington's relationship. I was reading over comments, and well... the plot bunny bit me. And wouldn't let go until I wrote this.
> 
> This takes place directly before the song Yorktown, in the wee hours of September 27th, 1781.

Hamilton stood over George Washington’s cot in his personal tent, running possibilities through his mind. He knew the general needed his rest for the march to Yorktown the next morning, but his mind would not stop until he spoke with the man. He gently touched the man’s shoulder, whispering, “General.”

Washington jumped awake at his touch, causing Hamilton to cringe. He sat straight up, his voice a growl as he questioned, “What is it? Did British come?”

“No, sir,” Hamilton shakily said, sitting back as Washington adjusted his eyes to the scant light in the tent.

“Well then, Alexander,” Washington questioned, sitting up in his cot, “why am I awake? The march starts in the morning, and nineteen thousand men do not lead themselves.”

“Sir—” Hamilton began, and then stopped. “How do you handle babies?

A particular look crossed Washington’s face, a mixture of sorrow and understanding. “I wouldn’t know. Martha brought Jacky—you know him as John Curtis—and her daughter Patsy to live with us when we married twenty-two years ago, but I have never had a child of my own blood.” He paused, and continued mournfully, “Patsy passed on to our Lord eight years ago.”

“I’m so very sorry,” Hamilton said, and they sat in silence for a moment before he asked again, “What is being a father like?”

Washington smiled slightly at his tone, hesitance and curiousness competing for supremacy. “It is like nothing else in this world. Like being handed the key to heaven and being tasked with protecting it for all your days. Your entire life changes; one moment you are willing to die for your beliefs, and the next you realize that your worth in this world is to protect and raise the child God blessed you with.”

“Just in a moment?” Hamilton asked.  
“Instantaneously.” Washington confirmed, stretching his back while keeping his eyes on Hamilton, patiently waiting.

“Eliza’s pregnant,” Hamilton blurted, before stopping himself. He took a deep breath, and continued, “The doctors say the baby will come in January, and I’m just worried—”

“You’re worried you won’t come back to them,” Washington calmly finished. “I understand.”

“What happens to them if I die?” Hamilton asked, his eyes distant, gazing at a corner of the tent. “Who will raise the child? How will they survive?”

“Eliza comes from a close and wealthy family,” Washington reminded him. “They shall be well cared for.”

“Yes, but what happens to a child without a father?!” Hamilton said frantically as he almost rocked back and forth in panic. “How shall they live? How shall they be respected? What will they think—” his voice cracked, “think of a father that chose a war over a life with them?”

Washington gazed at him for a moment, and then put a hand on Hamilton’s shoulder. “They will know that their father died to free the nation that he came to love, and that he helped form the nation in which they live. They will be the child of a war hero, and I will ensure that they remember that all the days of their life.”

Hamilton released a sigh that seemed to come from his very soul. “Thank you, sir.” He got up and went to walk out of the general’s tent.

“Alexander,” Washington said, giving Hamilton pause. “I intend to meet your child.”

“Sir?” Hamilton asked, turning to face him again.

“And I intend for you meet them too.” Washington finished, before laying down again.

Hamilton smiled, nodded at him, and left for his cot.


End file.
